I’ve mentioned before that Earle and his older brother Sam
were born to this couple in the 1920s—I’ve shown you one (admittedly faded)
photograph of the boys with their parents, their aunt and paternal grandmother
on the front step of their home.

What I haven’t told you yet is the back story of this
unusual couple.

Taking a look at this portrait of the young couple will help
reveal some of the details of the challenges confronting each of them.

What you may notice in the portrait is the endearing gesture
of Maud holding hands with her husband. You may also notice—though the copy of
the portrait is unsatisfactorily blurred—that Sam is looking off to the side,
rather than directing his gaze to the camera.

There is a reason for these details.

You see, Maud is not merely being sentimental in arranging
her portrait seating alongside her husband. Nor is she risking censure (for that time
period) by overly expressing fondness in public.

Sam was not born with that condition. The story behind the
detour in the path of his life is long enough to take a few additional posts
here at A Family Tapestry. By the
time of this photo, though, he was quite familiar with this new role in life.
We’ll go into the reasons why during the next few days.

Recreating this photograph to share here was a challenge in
itself. The portrait is well sealed within the frame, and I hesitate to tamper
with its construction. Scanning it with a Flip Pal or other such device would
be difficult owing to the curved glass covering the front of the frame.
Catching a reflection of a flash if a digital camera were used presents similar
limiting factors.

On a hunch, and game to experiment, my husband took the
frame and set it in his office scanner, which can accommodate prints up to
eleven by seventeen inches in size, and gave it a try there. The result, while
not flawless, does render a clearer representation of their faces. Perhaps, in
that legendary “Round Tuit” day in my future, I can go back and scan the package
in reverse order, getting the glare to obliterate the opposite end of the
portrait, then take the twin copies and play around with PhotoShop until I am
satisfied with the results.

In the meantime, if you would let this little glimpse into the
world of Sam and Maud Bean suffice you, I would be most obliged. For, you see,
I have little else with which to introduce you into their very different, dark
and silent world.

I don't think anyone would notice deafness and blindness in the photo if they weren't told - and even then its not obvious. What is obvious is the great affection she has for him - the love she has outshines the glare from the scanner.

What a sweet way to put it, Iggy. There is quite a bit in Maud's expression. Though it is a sweet vignette, unfortunately, there is more sadness to come. There is a lot more I'd like to know about Maud's life...

It is definitely a sweet story, Debi. Thankfully, even though I no longer have family who can tell me more of the stories, fortunately, there are some newspaper articles from which I can glean more details. Sam was evidently a remarkable man.

Actually, Far Side, the draping idea would probably assist in reducing the glare. The scan shown above was obtained using heavy weight paper for a shield. We will try doing that again with a towel and see if it produces better results.

Ah, Deborah, you are one of those people who can really spot all the details in a photo. I envy you!

Although I have some personal schedule issues confronting me in the next few days, I hope to be able to tell more of the family's story in the upcoming week. There is a lot to tell, and it will need to unfold slowly.

Hi Jacqi, my name is Sharn White and I enjoy your blog posts so much that I have nominated you for the Blog of the Year 2012 Award. You will find my post regarding this award which you can display on your sidebar at http://familyconvictions.blogspot.com.au

About Me

It is my contention that, after a lifetime, one of the greatest needs people have is to be remembered. They want to know: have I made a difference?
I write because I can't keep for myself the gifts others have entrusted to me. Through what I've already been given--though not forgetting those to whom I must pass this along--from family I receive my heritage; through family I leave a legacy. With family I weave a tapestry. These are my strands.